From his position high above the base, Duncan couldn't directly see the intense combat within, but from the panic and confusion on the upper levels, he had an inkling of how things were going. It was soon time for stage two of the plan. 'Extraction team, you are go. Secure the vehicle and park outside the rear entrance.' He paused a moment to survey the area, casually downing a confused soldier on patrol, before continuing. '... Area is clear, Kein. Keep it snappy.'
Down in the carpool, Kein was psyching himself up. His team had an easy job, all things considered; nick a car, be the getaway. In truth Xerox could have handled the task alone; no-one else had the same mechanical skills after all and hotwiring a military vehicle was a damn sight more difficult than a commercial car. The plan erred on the side of caution though, which he understood. They would have a rather sizeable force pursuing them. When Duncan's order came in, Kein sprung up from his hiding place and sprinted toward the last remaining guard in the carpool, naginata arcing wide overhead. The cut was quick and clean, the soldier's torso collapsing and falling away from his legs in eerie silence. Once the rest of the team caught up, he turned to Xerox. 'Alright man, pick a car and work your magic. We got maybe ten minutes till we gotta leave.'
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Oh man, oh fuck man, oh fuck. He only had three more days before being transferred and then this shit happens. The soldier was sweating profusely in his thick uniform, kneeling behind an overturned desk with his rifle trained ion the stairwell. The Major had ordered them to abandon the lower levels and every one in them, leaving God knew how many men to be slaughtered by who, SeeD? Terrorists? Or was it Esthar? It didn't matter now, not when they had massacred so many good men so quickly. Whoever they were, the Major had said, they were probably more than the garrison could handle. That's some fucking amazing peptalk skills, you gorrila-necked bastard, the soldier thought bitterly. Wiggs was a terror as a CO, spartan and uncompromising toward his subordinates; he would have brought back whipping if the General Staff hadn't put their foot down. Rumour had it that the Major wasn't entirely human anymore, like he was a cyborg or something, but what he lacked in social graces and basic humanity, Wiggs more than made up for in sheer brute force. He had executed so-called spies before with his bare hands, crushing skulls like eggs; if there was anyone on the base that could push their mystery attackers back, it was him. But as far as the soldier knew, Wiggs was lounging in his office, doing God knew what. Prepping the base to self-destruct, I bet. Cunt. A sudden burst of gunfire at the bottom of the stairs was cut off by a loud scream and then silence. His heartbeat racing and hands jittering in terror, the soldier sighted down his rifle and watched the stairs intently.